Deep In The Meadow
by stella89
Summary: Willow Mellark, Katniss and Peeta's daughter, is now 15 years old and the war was won 25 years ago. Told from Willow's point of view as she searches for the information withheld from her for so long, the information about the past.
1. Questions

I don't know what's going on with me.

Well actually I probably do. Today was the one and only lesson we receive in school on the hunger games. It's really no wonder there are a million questions running through my head. You probably think being a daughter of two victors would mean that I know everything there is to know about the games but that is absolutely wrong. I was only ever told two things: my parents were both victors and the hunger games along with life back then were both unbearably awful. I never needed to know anything more. I saw before my eyes what it did to my parents. How do you think it feels to wake up from your mother screaming from nightmares you know will never stop haunting her? Or to watch you watch you father turn pale and rigged as a marble statue as your mother quickly whisks you out of the room for reasons you don't know? It's terrible. That was all I needed to know, or so I thought.

Laws were passed 5 years after the revolution as to what would happen about the past. Memorials were set up by the arenas, every 10 years (from that year) there will be a service in the Capitol for survivors and high up government officials, and the hunger games and the days of old will be taught about one day during a student's education when they are fifteen. Well today was that day. Never again will I think I know about my parents' lives.

They told us how once the Capitol completely controlled all the districts and to show that power they made the hunger games. Every year they would pick a boy and a girl from each district to fight until all but one were dead. The arenas they would fight in were almost worse than the idea itself. After the 75th games the revolution started and the districts won their freedom from the Capitol.

Although I didn't see either of my parents in any of the pictures my teacher showed our class I knew they were there and that was enough.

A million questions are running through my head and I want answers. I will stop at nothing until I get them.

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_Thank you for reading! I know it was really short but I want to see if you like my idea/ what you would like to see/ have me add before I continue. Please leave a comment if you get a chance, I am more then happy for ideas or constructive criticism! I hope you liked it and can't wait to write more! :)  
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	2. Searching

_For those of you who left a review, thank you so much! Your feedback was appreciated. Sorry this chapter took so long, hopefully I'll have the next one out sooner. Thanks for waiting and hope you enjoy it!_

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I'm sitting in the hall starring at the great big grandfather clock. The seconds seem like years. My mother always comes home from hunting at five o' clock, exactly an hour after me and my little brother, Rye, get home from school. Most of the minutes pass by me trying to decide what the best way to bring up such a difficult topic is but by four thirty I realize how stupid I'm being. This is my mother and the best way to bring up anything is strait and abrupt. So with my strategy decided I sit and watch the clock, waiting nervously for the next thirty minutes.

Finally there is a knock at the door and I race over to open it. "Hey mom," I say as she walks through the doorway. "Hello little duck," she replies as she gives my dark braid a playful swat.

Well here goes nothing…

"Mom, can you please tell me about your childhood. I want to understand about the hunger games and you and Dad's role in them". I say it all in a rapid fire so that she wouldn't be able to stop me from asking my full request. But as soon as she hears what I'm asking for she tenses.

"No. You do not need to know those things ever. Your world is perfect and it doesn't need to be tarnished by my past."

"But Mom, how many kids do you think know so little about their parents!"

"You do not need to know. No buts. End of discussion. Now go tell your father I'm home so he can start dinner and do not bring this up with him."

"Fine", I say slamming the door behind me.

Every day since I have been old enough I would go tell my father when my mother was home. It's really kind of pointless since my mother always gets home at the same time and because they run on the same internal clock, but whatever, I enjoy the walks with my father.

As I walk into the bakery, I hear the little bell chime and the smell of fresh bread and pastries rushes into my nose. I love the bakery and wish I could spend all of my time here. It's just so calming. I guess I'm like my father that way. As I walk behind the counter I see him kneading a batch of dough with a placid smile on his face. There was one thing my mother was right about in our argument and that was to not bring the hunger games up to my father. There is no one I know more peaceful and happy then my father and I know I could never bring up such a sour topic.

"Hi Dad", I say and his attention finally leaves the dough. "Willow", he says as his smile expands "Mom's home." He says it as a statement not a question but I reply anyway with a "yeah". He finishes up the dough and we walk home together.

When we get home my mother has cleaned up the game so that my father can cook it. By the time dinner's ready the house smells wonderful, I always love my father's cooking. As we sit down at the table Rye starts rambling on about what he did in school today. School is so much more fun when you're ten. After what feels like forever Rye finally finishes talking and my father turns to me, "what did you learn in school today, Willow?"

Now what? I can avoid the subject like I told myself I would, but what would happen then? My father would probably be more upset if I didn't answer. Ok, I'll say it. "Today we learned about the hunger games and the revolution." As soon as the words left my mouth I hear a fork clink as it drops onto a plate. I turn and see my father, fist still extended and open, tensing immediately. By the time his hands reach the table he is gripping on so tight his fingers are white and all his muscles are as hard as metal. Before she tends to my father, my mother turns to us and says quietly but full of power, "Up to your rooms. Now."

We both turn and leave the dining room. This is a procedure we both know well. But, as I begin to follow Rye up the stairs, an idea hits me. Maybe this could give me some answers. So, instead of going to my room as I usually would, I sit down in the hall by the balcony that overlooks the dining room.

At first, I can decipher nothing of what's going on but then it becomes clearer. My mother is caressing my father's face as she whispers so soft and sweetly "Not real, not real" over and over again.

How strange...

I wonder what that means. What's not real? Why does she say these words? How is it that my strong mother can talk so soft?

I guess this wasn't a good idea. Instead of answers all I have is more questions. Since this is more upsetting then helpful, I go into my room and wait.

My father's "episodes" are random. You may think that things like the hunger games would be the trigger for them, but not always. Sometimes that would be the case and sometimes not. So there was no way I would know that my statement would hurt him, right? I mean I was just answering his question... Oh I don't know, maybe it was my fault but there is nothing I could do now but wait.

When my mother called us down again my father was not there. "Mom, where's Dad?" I wanted to apologize. "He's painting", she replied evenly. I guess she wasn't mad at me. "Oh," I said clearly showing my disappointment. As if she could read my thoughts my mother continued by saying "Don't worry, everything is fine. " "You sure, Mom?", I asked hesitantly, not believing her. "Yes", she said pulling me in for a hug. "Rye, do you still have homework?" He nodded and scrambled up the stairs. I mumbled something about homework too and followed my brother up.

I sat down on my bed I started to think of what I should do next. I should continue trying, right? I have not had a good start, first I got my mother mad at me and then I managed to trigger one of my father's episodes. Even though nothing worked I don't want to let my objective slip. Well, whatever I was going to do could wait. Even though my mother said everything was fine I still think I owe my father an apology. She said he was painting. Along with being an awesome baker and chef my father is an extremely talented artist and painting is his specialty, or so I was told. There were very few of my father's pieces I was allowed to see. The room where he works and where most of his creations live is strictly off limits to Rye and me. It is my parents' space for just the two of them.

I went back down and knocked on that door. The moment my fist tapped it, it flew open. Oh. My. God. The room was empty, my father nowhere to be found, but other stuff was. I am surrounded by art, but they are not the type you would usually find in an art museum. Don't get me wrong, some were nice. There was a teenager who I believe was my mother, smiling while playing with a little girl's blond hair. Another had a small girl with dark hair and skin sleeping in a bed of flowers. But, there were others that were just awful. Like a boy being torn apart by giant wolf-like creatures, a battle seen that was very shiny and had a young man crouched in the background digging his wrists into the handcuffs that were around them, and a puddle of blood in a dark cave. That's not exactly what you'd call sunny. I turn around from the freaky art that made no sense and find a bookcase behind me. I choose a book with no title on its spine and sit down to read in one of the big chairs.

As I open the book I notice it is handwritten in my mother's writing. On the first page there is a picture of the little girl from the painting with my mother. Under the photo it says her name, Prim, Primrose Everdeen.

Everdeen. I know that name. It was my mother's maiden name. I wonder who this girl is, or was, and how she is related to my mother. I soon find she was my mother's sister and she died when she was only fourteen during the revolution. She was a medic and trying to help some children who were bombed by the rebels, yes you heard that she was helping the enemy's children who were bombed by soldiers on her side, when another set of rebel bombs went off and killed them all. Wow. I finish reading everything about her and I think she is the sweetest, bravest person I've ever heard about. It was such a shame someone so good had to die so young. I keep going and I discover that the book is a memorial for anyone who died that my parents or my Uncle Haymitch knew. (Uncle Haymitch isn't really my uncle just my parents friend who I call uncle, there are a lot of people I call aunt or uncle who aren't really my aunts and uncles.) I read about people named Rue, Cinna, Finnick, Madge, both my grandfathers, one grandmother, and many more. I was reading about an old woman named Mags when the doorknob turned and my parents walked in.

I slammed the book shut and started rambling "I was looking for Dad so I knocked and the door swung open and he wasn't there and…"

"It ok Willow," my mother said cutting me off, "you don't need to give excuses. I think we should talk. C'mon lets go up to your room." My father puts his arm around me and the three of us go upstairs.

When we reach my bed I realize I may know more about people who died but not much more about my parents, so before I find out what their agenda is for this discussion, I cut to the chase. "Are you finally going to tell me stuff?"

"We've spoke about it and we both agree that it's best not to tell you." My father says.

"But" I start. "But", he continues cutting me off, "this is the year that the memorial service is held in the Capitol. Your mother and I are planning on going. We were intending to leave you and Rye with Greasy Sae but if you'd like you can come with us. You may find what you're looking for there."

"You think so?"

"I do."

"Count me in!"

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_Thanks for reading! If you get a chance, please write a review, it will be much appreciated. And again, hopefully the next chapter will be here soon. :)_


	3. A Start

_Thank you so much for your positive feedback! I hope you enjoy!_

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Time went so slowly that month, but finally my mother, father, Uncle Haymitch, and I are waiting by the station, our bags packed, Rye at Greasy Sae's. When the train pulls up and I hear its loud whistle I can't help it, a big grin spreads across my face.

As I climb up the train's steps my mind is racing. I am leaving District 12. I am going to find answers. I am going with people I love. Nothing could have stopped me from going on this trip. I'm sure it will live up to its expectations.

Everyone in my family looks a little stiff and nervous as they show me my room and head off to theirs to get ready for dinner. While I get changed I wonder why they are all acting so tense. It's just another mystery to add to my growing list...

When I finish putting on my nice dinner clothes, a ruffled salmon colored top with black leggings, I enter the dining car to find I'm the last one there. As soon as I sit down a server, who's around five years older than me, puts many dishes in front of us. I guess you could say I'm spoiled but this fine food is nothing compared to my father's magnificent fare. We all eat as simple conversation passes back and forth. From time to time Uncle Haymitch makes remarks that cause my parents to give him stern looks so he shuts up. And even though the words star crossed lovers or lover boy and girl on fire with slight chuckles mean nothing to me I know they have something to do with the information I crave.

After we finish and my parents and Uncle Haymitch have gone off to their rooms the server comes back to clear the table. I give her a small smile and she returns it with an even bigger one.

"Can I help you clear up?" I ask her hesitantly.

"Sure!" She says her smile widening.

We are collecting the plates when I break the silence, "What's your name?"

"Aeila, what's yours?"

I role the name on the tip of my tongue, it's weird, it's foreign. "Mine's Willow."

By her expression I can tell my name has the same effect that her name gave me. "Well," I continue, "you already know where I come from, what about you? What District are you from?"

She hesitates and then answers quietly, "the Capitol".

I am shocked. Even though I can tell this is a touchy subject and I've just met her I can't resist asking "How'd a Capitol girl end up working on a train?" They may not be all powerful anymore but the Capitol is still richer than any District.

Aeila exhales deeply and then starts to tell her story. "Well I may be from the Capitol but I'm not a Capitol girl. My parents were from 8. When the revolution started, my dad immediately wanted to fight with the rebels. When they saw how well he could shoot they put him on the front lines, and soon enough that meant the Capitol. My mother, no matter how hard he begged her, wouldn't stay home. She insisted that wherever he was would be just as safe as 8, if not safer because she had him. But, when he was being moved to the Capitol, he put his foot down. She was eight months pregnant and being in the heaviest war zone was not what she needed. After much begging she got her way again, but instead of staying with him she'd be in a safe house. One day she got the news that my father died and she was deviated, crushed, but she kept going for his child, their child. The day that I was born in a Capitol hospital my mother died in labor, before she even looked at me. The doctor rushed out to the waiting room to find the father of the new child and the husband of the dead woman, but no one responded to her calls or knew who the man she was looking for was. She soon realized that this newborn was an orphan. Unable to have children of her own, and therefore rejected by all the Capitol men, who are not capable of feeling true love, she took me home. I grew up with her, I was her sunshine and she treated me as if I was her own child. She was so nice to me but I just didn't fit in. I wasn't from the Capitol and it was obvious to me and those around me. I moved out when I was seven years old and took the first job I could find. I've been on this train ever since."

By the time she finishes, the table is clean and we are in the sitting room sipping mint tea.

"What about you?" Aeila asks, "What's your story? You've got to have one if you're going to the memorial."

"That's the thing. I don't know. My parents were both part of the war but I don't know what their role was. For my entire life they wouldn't tell me anything, but now they decided to let me come with them to the memorial."

"If I was you, I'd try to find a few things out before you get to the Capitol", she says with a grin, getting up to leave.

We say good night and I turn into the corridor towards my room when I suddenly change my direction. Aeila's right. I can't go into the Capitol knowing nothing. So with that thought I knock on Uncle Haymitch's door.

"What the hell are you doing up!", he barks as he opens the door.

I walk in and plop down in an empty chair "I wanna talk."

"That's nice sweetheart, can it wait till the morning maybe?"

"No" is all I need to say for Uncle Haymitch to take a deep breath and sit down next to me.

"What is it?", he asks in the nicest voice he can muster.

"I want you to tell me things. I don't want to be clueless when I get to the Capitol."

"Well, your parents are damn right you shouldn't know but there are some things that would probably make this trip a lot more understandable... So, your parents were both tributes in the 74th Hunger Games"

"Both? But that's not possible! They're both still here!"

"Will you shut up and let me finish!"

"Sorry", I mumble and let him go on.

"As I was saying, both your parents were tributes in the 74th Games. Your father was madly in love with your mother from when they were very little and made it his goal in the games to give his own life so the girl of his dreams could live on as the happy little victor. I, as District 12's mentor, decided that that's what his strategy should be, declaring his love for feisty Katniss. He was so real and passionate and she scraped by enough to earn so much support from the wretched Capitol that the rules were changed and two victors from the same District would be allowed to survive. When they were the only tributes left the Capitol changed the ruddy rules back. Neither of them would kill the other so when they were about to commit a double suicide they declared them both victors. And that's all I'm telling you. It's enough for you to make it through one day. Now go to bed before I wake up our star crossed lovers."

I go to leave but before I do, I turn to my uncle, "Good night and thanks," I say quietly and go to my room, my head spinning.

As I get into bed, I look at the clock and see it's after midnight. Before one coherent thought can formulate in my brain, I fall asleep.

In the morning I decide to pretend I'm still asleep so I can process everything I learned last night. We still have a few hours until we reach the station so I might as well take advantage of the time. After some time I come to the conclusion that what Uncle Haymitch told me may not be everything but it definitely helps. I know how my parents survived the Hunger Games but it's missing so many details that it doesn't subside my hunger for my history, it increases it. So, more hopeless than before, I head to breakfast.

"Good morning, sunshine", my father says with a smile as he dips a soft roll into a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

"Morning", I say, taking pancakes and blueberries and sitting down next to him.

"Are you ready?" He asks, his grin widening.

"Yep" is all I can muster. I am thoroughly exhausted and I'm afraid that if I say to much the questions that I'm scared to ask, and he doesn't want to hear, will come rushing out of my overly full, but yet empty, brain.

My father can read through my silence and can tell that I am over tired, if not more. He also knows better than to question why.

We both finish eating as the train comes to a stop. Walking to the window my father says lightly, "Welcome to the Capitol."

When we reach the building were the guests will be staying, called the training center, a look of anguish and despair crosses both my parents faces. They hold each other the entire time we are making our way to our rooms on the twelfth floor.

The building is dark and eerie but grand at the same time. I wonder what significance this place has to trigger my parent's reaction. It does seem quite old, although it is preserved wonderfully. Maybe my parents were here during their stay in the Capitol. It seems like the type of place they would put the tributes, but for what purpose, I don't know.

I change quickly into my evening dress and head to my parent's room to see if they are ready.

Today's event is a dance prior to an opening speech from President Paylor. In my opinion, the only difference between a dance like this one and a party is the lack of a festive motive.

I am about to knock on their door when Uncle Haymitch stops me.

"Let them have some time, sweetheart, they need it."

"Why don't you", I ask him.

"Nothing a good drink can't fix," he says, taking a swing from the bottle in his hand that is emitting putrid fumes.

I give a slight laugh, Uncle Haymitch has always been a drinker for longer than my parents knew him but he usually stays somewhat sober to tend to his geese. I guess being in the Capitol took away what little self-control he had.

Uncle Haymitch puts his arm on my shoulder and we make our way to the elevator. It stops on each floor picking people up and dropping them off until finally we reach the ground floor.

As soon as we get off I immediately spot my Aunt Johanna and run to give her a hug.

"Hey it's brainless jr.!" She says returning my hug. "C'mon lets go say hi to your Aunt Annie"

We find Aunt Annie with her son, my cousin, Finnick.

Finnick is a total hottie, light bronze curls, sea green eyes you could get lost in, and a captivating grin. But he's 10 years older than me, so no matter how hard I try to get to know him its kinda hard.

Jugging that this is going to be a catch-up conversation that is incredibly boring for a 15 year old girl, I wander off and end up by the bar.

I sit down on a chair two down from an anxious looking man with very dark brown hair, a strong build, and gray eyes that remind me of my mother's and Rye's, who was stirring his drink around with a little paper umbrella.

I order a virgin Shirley Temple from the bar tender and suddenly the man looks up.

"No way", he says, clearly shocked about something.

"Excuse me?", is all I can say.

"No freakin way."

All I can do is stare at him, there is nothing I can say to him, I have no idea who he is and he doesn't seem too interested in explaining.

Finally, after a long silence, he says, almost to himself, "you look exactly like her."

"Um", I start uncertainly "who exactly do I look like?"

"Katniss, she is your mother, right? But you have his eyes." On the last bit his expression changes from wide eyes to a grimace.

"Yes, my name's Willow Mellark. Who are you, though? And how do you know my mother?"

His grimace widens when I say my name but he still answers my questions, "My name is Gale Harthworne and your mother and I used to be friends."

With that, he gets up and leaves, abandoning his drink that was still half-full. My Shirley Temple came and I drank it wondering why I never heard of Gale Harthworne.

When I get up, I am so lost in my own mind that I bump into a woman rushing around with giant heals and orange hair carrying a clipboard.

I hear her mumble "manners!" So before I walk away I turn and say "Sorry".

"It's..." But whatever she is about to say I never knew because when she saw me, she, just like Gale, looked in awe.

"Oh my... oh my!" is all she could say before she had me locked in a giant hug. "Oh my! Miss Mellark, so nice to finally meet you! I'm your Auntie Effie! And what would your first name be, dear?"

Trying to hide my surprised reaction on having an aunt I've never met or even heard of, I answered "Willow" with a smile.

"Oh what a lovely District name! I must go dear, we are on a busy, busy schedule but I'll see you soon!" she said and then with another hug she left, leaving me baffled.

I continue through the crowded room, trying to see if my parents are down yet. I need to ask them about these people. But before I can get across half the room, I'm stopped yet again by another unfamiliar face that knows mine.

This man is on the older side with white hair and looks well to do, probably from the government. "Miss Mellark! A pleasure to meet you. My name is Plutarch Heavensbee. I have known your parents for some time now. Actually, I met them at a party just around the block from here. Well I must go, I am the secretary of communications and this is the busiest event of the year. Pleasure meeting you Miss Mellark!" he said and then, with a kiss to my hand, he left.

Finally, I found my parents at a table with Uncle Haymitch, Aunt Johanna, Aunt Annie, and Finnick. I sit down in the seat next to my mom and open my mouth to tell her we've got to talk but before I can say anything she shushes me and stands up. When the entire hall is standing in silence I see why the commotion has stopped. President Paylor has entered to speak.

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_Thanks for reading! If you get a chance, please leave a review. Let me know what you think of the characters I added in, most of them should be back soon. Also, I will try to incorporate all your ideas into the plot as I go on, so tell me what you think I should add/ change. Thanks again! :)  
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